In the Hook of my Hand
by ladyStarlightHook
Summary: (hook)George Darling suddenly discovers a new side to his personality and a Hook at hand.
1. Sweet dreams

(Hi everyone.This is my first fan fiction so please don't be too harsh with me…don't make me walk the plank.First let me apologize for spelling mistakes,grammar and vocabulary mistakes.And also let mesay thatI own no character, all is from J.M Barrie's wonderful stories and the 2003 film with astonishing Jason Isaacs'performance as Cap.James Hook.For more about me and the things I do please visit my site.(see in my profile) 

I'm preparing more chapters for this,but it will take me time since English is not my language and I have tons to do at university.

Enjoy and let me think what you think about this!)

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Sweet dreams. 

Old. Alone. Done for.

He opened his eyes to the darkness of the room, bathed by the moonlight and barely revealing the eerie familiar shapes of the mirror and closet. The room he always sleeps in. his home. His breath fast and unsteady, clutching desperately the sheets and blankets to his side and gazing around totally confused. When the childish uproar of chant faded away from his brain he sighed. It was again. It was again that nightmare. The shape of his wife, still sunk in her sleep, moved just slightly, groaning in her dreams. His wife. And his…hand. Ok, it was a dream. He took his glasses from the drawer and placed them in his nose. Then all turned into focus. He sighed, closing his eyes and trying to erase the last drops of fear and unsettlement in his mind. It was only a dream, a nightmare. The invention of your brain and the co-operation of a too large dinner, you silly...he muttered to himself trying to regain courage in the darkness. the only aspect that got really on his nerves was the fact that it was a recurrent nightmare and that he could not recall all the incidents in it, only pieces and sensations. Every night ever since the children's return from their escapade to who-knows-exactly-where-but-don't-even-dare-to-try-to-know he had had that dream. He had tried to fight back in the dream once he noticed that there was no escape to dreaming it all over once again every night. Honestly, he needed his sleep and he could not stay awake every night and then nooze in the bank over the accounts. Most improper and what would everyone think of his household?? He remembered a fight with swords. Swords? He had never brandished one of those! The first night it was...original in a sense. All so real and intense that when he woke up feeling the asphyxiating warmth of the croc's belly and the clinching of his fangs around him, he got up and stayed still rehearsing his movements in the shadows. Marvelling where on earth had he ever watched that to ever dream it. Maybe one of those silly theatre plays...

But, no that cost a lot of money and he rarely attended it on account of the expense. The second night it was...not that original but still he cherished all the dream till his defeat. He always lost, even though he had a good time till that deadly croc appeared...he felt always lost when he awoke, depressed and with the words still clinging in his ears .OLD. ALONE. DONE FOR.

After months having the same nightmare he had got more experience with sword fight, with dealing with...pirates? What...? How...?Ok, he thought, when I was little I used to read pirate stories...so that may be! I'm remembering those stories...Every night he fought only to loose over and over again. It was getting infuriating and he consciously got deeper and deeper into the actions, sensations of the dream. He pulled the sword even more furiously at the prat of that boy, he clinched his teeth and barked more orders to the pirates even more menacingly, he tried to kill Wendy first of everything instead of...Kill Wendy? He opened his eyes a bit ashamed and confused. What was that supposed to mean when you try in a dream to kill your children? to kill children anyway? To kill anyone anywhere anyhow? Definitely, he was going mad...or something he had eaten. Maybe he should give up the precious tea cups he drank everyday and try to soothe his nerves...But he had never commented on this to his wife, and he intended to never ever tell that to anyone. But he feared that someday somehow his behaviour would catch someone's attention and then people would begin wondering, posing questions and staring at him. But he could not tell anyone this! What would neighbours think about a maniac who in his wildest dreams kills all the children of an island and keeps on saying: there's no such thing as...??Fairies??

'Of course there's no such a thing as fairies!' he mumbled in the darkness, feeling silly at his own imagination. 'Whatever got inside your mind about that, George, to even have to repeat that to yourself all over again as if not believing...' He paused a bit uneasy. But of course there were fairies in his dream. What was the key to being in a dream with fairies and keep on with that phrase in your mouth spitting it all over and killing all fairy being and all children who DID believe in them? But they existed in his dream? 'Oh, poor me...'he sighed. Definitely he was going mad. Afraid that closing his eyes again would incite another rehearsal of this his eternal nightmare, he got up and went down the stairs, just pausing a bit uneasy at the nunnery door. He looked into and saw the children peacefully asleep, his eyes fixed on the children's innocent faces. It was only a dream…It had to be only a dream.

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Man in the mirror 

But if it was a dream,then it should be better called a nightmare.George,night after night,faced the same story.From beginning to the well-known end of death,demise,darkness and the rest of a restless night with open blue eyes. He would wake up as a lonesome, dashy, valiant and revengeful pirate who happened to have no right hand. Instead of a hand, a hook. Instead of a treasure hunt, a boy hunt. But in a pirate vessel, with a pirate crew who respected and feared him. But instead of sailing the seven deep blue seas he was condemned to fight with a boy of…ten? eleven? twelve? no more than that. The first night it was amusing, then it got boring and depressing. The fact that his very own children were in that story didn't make things better. It was frustrating to lose every night to the clamorous joyful chant of OLD. ALONE. DONE FOR. Worse still if they are your own children the ones singing in while you, the provider for their warm beds, food and silly games, is struggling for impossible happy thoughts. Happy thoughts? Have a croc there with open mouth just licking its lips wanting every drop of blood and inch of flesh from you and then tell me about happy thoughts! He could not,he simply could not go on struggling the inevitable end.Time was calling, eating him up at every moment. He would wake up all in sweat and anguish after having sealed his fate with a mournful, but noble expression, spitting the same words staring at the children who seemed to rejoice at his end. Old, alone, done for. And he lost again, and again and again. It was affecting him, and his attitude towards his family, especially the children. But, whenever he caught himself reflecting on his offspring's behaviour in his dream, he would repeat to himself with self-contempt: 'Stupid…it is JUST a dream!'. But morning after morning, after nights and nights he found it simply difficult to convince himself that it was only a dream. Every morning he would gaze at the man in the mirror. With a hand instead of a hook, with a bank clerk job instead of a ship; with a bundle of noisy and irreverent children instead of full command over stupid crewmen. He paused his thoughts, looking intensively over every feature of his face, every small wrinkle and defect on his skin. Old.The voice rang in his mind 'Old codfish'.

'you, flying scum' he grunted in his breath and to the blue eyes that looked back to him from the mirror 'sooner or later I will clip your wings'

(TO BE CONTINUED...)


	2. Marmalade and mermaids

(Hi everyone.This is my first fan fiction so please don't be too harsh with me…don't make me walk the plank for my spelling and grammar mistakes! I own no character, all is from J.M Barrie's wonderful stories and the 2003 film with astonishing Jason Isaacs'performance as Cap.James Hook.For more about me and the things I do please visit my site.I'm preparing more chapter for this, but it will take me time since English is not my language and I have tons to do at university.

Enjoy and let me think what you think about this! And thanks for the reviews!)

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Marmalade and mermaids

'But of course,there are things in that nightmare of yours, that are pretty entertaining'Captain Hook chuckled to himself, glaring at the long and quick waves the big things,half naked woman, half who-knows-what fish, made on the darkened sea.

'said something ,capt'n?'Smee bolted at this right on the ready to seek for a hide.

'nothing, you old peg of…'he stopped, still surveying the dark line of the coast. Something was amiss in the story right now.'Ah'he thought'i'm supposed to go on hunting for that brat…and see him there dancing with Wendy…'He bit his lip with frustration.The episode at the Black Castle had already been bitter enough for him to go on seeking the he not just turn and go away from that insolent boy?Leave him to his own mischief?Could Hook and George have only one night to either of them? Hook knew Pan needed no entertainment on his part to have a good time…Maybe it would not matter if any other of the crew assumed the role of captain and followed suit of a new vendetta.But,he sighed putting down the spying glass for a moment, he knew too well how the story unfurled itself because he had been re-enacted it for so long…There was no escape. The island and maybe dark magic or some irresistible force drove him again and again to the same actions, decisions and mistakes.How many nights? He had attempted to get some answers from Smee, but his bosun seemed just either too stupid to know or too careful to try his Captain's patience.

'sir?' Smee tried again, sensing something odd around the captain.

'I need a boat, Smee. I will be going ashore'

'aye, capt'n!'

He knew no matter how hard he tried to alter the story it would just go on the same. Old. Alone. Done for. Of course, he knew it. His hook sank in the wooden rail and he gritted his teeth. Pure hatred and anger and only a word on his mind. Revenge.

Going on a boat with pirates rowing silently in the night, with only a small lantern to guide your eyes to the water seemed like a new little adventure for the George part who still was conscious in his dream. He glanced over the ridge of the boat and saw again the bodies, fluorescent in the dark, of blue and white skin and fins. Long dark red,blue or raven black manes dancing in the streams of the boat and the movements of their strong, pale, creamy shoulders. He leaned over the border more insistently and to his men's surprise.

'mermaids' the George part wanted to cry with delight, thinking they were the best view, the most magical creatures he could ever get to seen, and so close…he only needed to touch the surface of the crystal clear water. He got closer, instantly relegating the Hook part who knew better to a shocked stance in his mind.It all happened to quickly for either Hook or George to react.A brown-haired dame arose from the surging waters,her breast blue with an iridescent glow that showed over her silk dark hair.Her hands clutching hook and hand,her mouth in a mocking kiss and her honey eyes leering at him.Impossible so…Hook wanted to cry and draw his hook over that sardine's throat.George paralysed and with him also the body the two of them shared.And with that a splash and the boat tumbled on the waves,the men crying aloud in the night for their captain.

'capt'n!'Smee screamed to his lengths' full strength.'Sir!'

all men knew better than George that they had to stay on board and the farther the better from the mermaids,so they clung to the boat waiting for their captain's shrieks while the mermaids devoured him.

Even Hook himself waited for the tearing and clawing on his flesh,a sight of blood on the water that he rememberd and feared ever since that boy got hold of his hand,of his hand with his body moving on that accord…the hook shone on the dark water and he stared at its moonlight form.Then the mermaid, the same who had captured him started kissing him hard on the mouth.First he thought she wanted to drown him,get all the air from his lungs.Surprised he backed away when he felt her arms hugging him,her tail naughtily tugging around his legs.Was she drowning him or simply enjoying herself on him?

'george' the mermaid whispered in his ear. And then Hook knew, and George also.

'mary' he grunted waking up in his wife arms.All in darkness except for the window showing the blurred grey clouds of London sky.'mary I was…asleep'he began a bit confused.

'george,I just thought it was too early and…'she caressed his chest mockingly'I didn't want to wake you up…just a kiss and a hug,dear'

'indeed'he grumped getting his glasses and putting them on his nose.'mary,i…I think…I thought that…'he paused.He didn't have anything to say,nothing thought,nothing in his mind.She kept on caressing him and kissing his cheek'yes,it is too early still,but…maybe i…'he stammered,uneasy about the sensation he had on his lower self,a place he knew too well society wanted him to disregard.And think about the cost…It was not safe,Mary did not think about consequences of…

'go on and let us have some fun,you stupid pig'Hook's voice made him stop short on his stammering.Of course not.A nightmare was a thing and a voice on your brain is another.His eyes searching for an escape out of a situation he didn't feel like getting involve right now with his mind's state.'I…I…I need a tea,dear'he decided getting up and dressed with his gown.'I definitely need a tea and maybe…maybe…a…a toast!yes,I'm a little bit hungry'he stammered getting his slippers and not glancing back to Mary who was entertaining herself now caressing the pillow and leering at his back,the mermaid still showing on her,or was just George's imagination running wild?He closed the door silently,gasping for air.

'oh,you repressed scum'Hook gruntled still grasping the door.

'sh'George said in a calmed voice'leave me alone'he pleaded with desperate eyes,looking up at the ceiling,expecting the sweet deliverance of providence.

'no way'Hook snapped and when George turned the mirror gave him back a disturbing image of a George coolly standing on the door,leering maliciously and his right hand waving a dismissal to the George who gasped in shock.

'no!'George cried.Belatedly he realized he could have awoken his children,surprised Mary or Nana. he closed his eyes,his hand on his mouth to shut up any consternation.

'you fool' he said more calmly'it's all in your mind…you're only having nightmares all over' he went downstairs,feeling odd,glancing over all the little details of his home,as if he was not too sure if indeed he was there.He got to the kitchen and made tea.That soothed his mind…and his body.He sighed sipping his tea and getting a toast with sliky marmalade. He surprised himself when he took the peach marmalade and dispensed himself a more than generous serving on his otherwise meagre bread.He did not like…wait, he savoured the mouthful he got.He did like it.But distinctively he remembered the time he had said peach was not for him…Suddenly the blue glass light gave him a shrud. the colour,the sensation of darkness that it had around was just like that of the mermaid. Another mouthful and he gave a sight.Was it Mary entering into his dream? Or just like the children who were there for his mind's sake and madness?A sip of tea and he swallowed.

'Mad…I'm going mad' he sighed.

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	3. right in the corner of her lips

(before you go on and read…I own none of the characters here,-grins- wish I had one Hook for me ,though…sorry about the mess in this chapter when getting both George and Hook talking inside George's mind…hope this will get better next chapter.Of course there are more!!)

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Right in the corner of her lips

A thimble. What's a thimble anyway?

George lowered his eyes to the sewing stuff that Mary held in her lap while tossing the dress over and over, mending the stitches which could no longer stay where Wendy's imminent curves were gently pushing them.

Of course he remembered his first kiss.He knew what a kiss is.Now being in his thirties he could look back and count the kisses he had had, had stolen and had had stolen…Not many, he regretted once his mind set on counting them.He had always focused on numbers,on what the neighbours would say,think or believe,and he had stayed on that for so long that now he could not comprehend what was the fuss with a bodily act like that for a girl of thirteen. Maybe it was something deliciously…uhm…what was the savour of a kiss? of lips? he tried, but as years had gone through on him he could not recall the taste of those first kisses. Mary's kisses were fine…sometimes too much hot and he had to remind her to keep composure in front of society, they would not kiss if the children were present, never if Millicent was about, and it would be unthinkable if they were on the streets…and never in the park, such a depravity to be seen like that…What would neighbours think? and Wendy's teachers? Then he remembered that there had been a note from one of the teachers. Something about a drawing…It would be better if Wendy would just satisfy herself with reading and leave plastic arts for some other time…

So kisses would be alright for both Hook and George, they were the first step to intimacy between man and woman and both knew what that would lead to.. Did Wendy know about that? George twitched shocked. Of course she would not!and he intended to get her out of those dreams with that flying prat of boy,darting about in…leaves??Oh, God,that boy had nothing more for a cloth over his naked body! George eyes went wide without him knowing it. He was shocked with Neverland and that…that boy. But he also was shocked when he focused on Mary's figure,that reminded him of the mermaids. My Goodness, they are women! Naked women seen there only by children!! John and Michael would have seen them!! Even Wendy would now be wondering what would the mermaids do with…with…Hook grinned feeling George unable to even think about the mermaid's breasts. 'Do it, man, it won't hurt.' Hook, waved his hook while rolling his eyes knowingly 'Tits, breasts, nips, nipples', he sang the words happily and mockingly to poor George who went visibly pink just there, now looking to his hands on his lap, humiliated, ashamed that those thoughts should creep inside his mind when Mary was there, innocently sewing Wendy's dress.

So, maybe…maybe Wendy was awakening to womanhood and so she would find Peter's kisses…'No' Hook corrected 'it's our Wendy kissing Pan' 'ours?' George was shocked. 'what do you have to do with her anyway?' 'oh, nothing really…' Hook started caressing his metal appendix looking concentrated on his task and whistling a pirate tune. George tried to regain composure again. So, Wendy was exploring Peter with her kisses…'and you would better pray for her not to try harder those explorations' Hook retorted again, glaring him mockingly 'imagine…that savage boy with our Wendy, there, on that savage island with those savage boys just about to be men but not truly men…can you imagine it? Oh, dear, dear Georgie, it must be such a fun! Spying on the mermaids and pirates when they…you know…' his eyebrow went high, while George went redder. 'they after all are real men, and real women…and you know there's an itching somewhere that needs to be scratched' he sang again now caressing his black moustache. 'No, they…they don't know about those things…'George tried to relax but his voice sounded shaky even in his own mind. 'Oh, but they discover' Hook answered coolly letting his long black locks to hung and waving his head in a nod ' they are midway innocence and perdition…Growing up has inconveniences but also pleasures that our Wendy is trying to discover with Pan' 'I can't believe that you go on talking about MY Wendy as if you had something to do with her!' 'Are you deaf ,man?' George turned surprised at Hook's remark but saw no-one in the room apart from Mary and himself. George.

Fantastic…he was having visions…But Hook's voice again resounded in the air.

'The drawing. stupid' Hook groaned 'it was Wendy and Pan, in her bed' he grimaced naughtily 'you know, you know…' 'She can't possibly know about that' George whimpered. 'No, she does not.. yet' Hook's eyes went to George 'but she will soon discover it if we are not careful with Pan.'

How could she know? How? Maybe she had seen him kissing Mary. Or worst she had heard them when they…Hook laughed coarsely 'Blast it, man!' George stiffed in his seat and bit his lip. Agreed, he would concede that maybe Wendy was experiencing some changes, considering her age it was normal. He himself has asked her repeatedly to grow up. Oh, misery! Now he regretted it…Why couldn't she be his baby forever? It must have been Millicent's books…Romances and such depravities would cause havoc on Wendy's imagination. 'Of course' Hook interrupted him, picking on his nails with his hook, something that disgusted George tremendously' she believes in happy endings, you know..' George stiffed again and tried to focus on the sewing stuff once again. So Wendy loved Peter. A kiss would be understandable in such terms…Wendy's first love. But then why should she give him a thimble? What was the mystery over naming something after something else that it is not? And besides, what had to do the kiss when Peter was about to die? 'The happy ending' Hook reminded him with a hurt look. To give Peter a thimble, her thimble which in fact was a hidden kiss. A hidden kiss? For George and for Hook there was only one possible way for a kiss to be, in or out, but hidden…what nonsense was that?…Such a…such a…

'girlie thing' Hook spat trying to ease himself in George's dull suit and short hair. He hated it, he hated the cosy home that good-for-nothing clerk had got. He preferred the luxury of his cabin and the gentle movement of the ship riding wave after wave. And that damned glasses. Hook tried to focus unsuccessfully on the female figure there, bent on her sewing activity. What the hell where those things for if all you get when looking through them is a blurred image?? He winced his nose, trying to get the glasses off even if that bastard body George controlled in this world was not to do it. But that only got Mary's attention and George freezed alarmed. 'We've been discovered' he whimpered trying to find refuge behind the daring pirate who only shrugged his shoulders and sighed with exasperation. 'Try not to start crying at least…'Hook groaned.

'George' she murmured lovely, making George look at her. He focused on her,pushing Hook's voice and leer away from his adoring wife 'what are you thinking?'

'thinking?' He blinked confused. 'Er…only day-dreaming…'He tried to settle himself again in the chair and looked composed. He straightened his glasses and searched for any object to linger his gaze on it.They were alone,for once.Millicent had taken the children to the park with that brute of a dog…of a bitch, Hook corrected him with a slight smirk.'How like Georgie to have an awful big monster around to protect the children…' Protect? Hook smiled wickedly.To protect them from what?George stiffed a bit unsure. He felt dropsy, his mind somewhere else…maybe again in Neverland with his other part, that wicked captain who only knew how to drink himself and shout improprieties George could have never thought of. Suddenly he felt an inching in his right …hand. He paused staring at his fingers, fingernails, knuckles, his eyes confused because they were expecting the merciless claw there,the stump and the hand which was…sometime before.But not his own right hand.He blinked and sighed,fearing that Mary would have already noticed his foul mood.What the heck…?He bit his lip with frustration.What he really needed was to get on working,no matter if it was Sunday and the bank was closed!Surely he had something to do with his own accounts…he grimaced trying to remember for how long he had not check the balances of his own home.Always thinking about the cost but never calculating it…He stood up straightening his waistcoat.

'uhm,I'll…I'll check some accounts,dear'he muttered heading for his desk.

(TO BE CONTINUED…)


	4. The price of a kiss

I own no character, all is from J.M Barrie's wonderful stories and the 2003 film with astonishing Jason Isaacs'performance as Cap.James Hook.Thanks much for the reviews,please do tell me what you think about the story,and sorry for grammar,spelling,vocabulary mistakes...English is not my mother tongue...Enjoy!

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The price of a kiss

'That…that makes…and with this…' he continued mumbling to himself in the small room, alone, only to make Hook desperate with boredom over such…such…

'Such a meagre booty' Hook smirked and tried to cross his legs in a most unfashionable way but George would not accept that and his feet did not change position from his rigid stance in the hard chair. 'this makes two thousand and fifty…'

'I have much more than that in only one of my chest at the pirates' keep…' Hook whispered in George mind. 'Maybe next time you want to count all my treasure…it would be nice to prove that I've been better than you once again'. George stopped trying to breathe again. 'See, this only adds to your many mistakes, Georgie…'

'I'm not the one being devoured over and over every night' George mocked and Hook looked angered, his blue eyes now darted in red crimson.

'How you dare?' Hook yelled standing up in his mind and storming over a defenceless George who was backed over some memories of defeats and chants of Old. Alone. Done for. The hook went to his glasses putting them higher, Hook's foul breath on his cheeks and the eyes, those very eyes focusing on him. 'if it were not for …'Hook stopped and then smiled his terrible, false smile of forgiveness meaning doom. 'you know too well I cannot kill you, Georgie…'

' I would better prefer if you treat me as Mr.Darling'

'Who's the captain here, rat?' Hook snapped his voice low and smooth, steely in George's mind, as if he were there really pinching his neck with the sharp claw. Was he really? George turned to discover that on that side there was no one, nothing, only the window and the garden. He blinked confused. How could that be? He was sure, he had heard Hook's voice and his own arguing as if …as if they were just there. He combed his black hair carefully with his hand and tried to focus again on the account. It would prove a task more difficult than it should be…

'What's happening?' George whined now pinned by Hook's strong and lone hand.

'What do you want from me?'

'Silence you bastard!' Hook yelled, resounding his harsh voice in George's ears. He turned and again saw nothing. 'I'm tied to you, ungrateful myopic snail!'

'You savage!' George tried gasping for air and trying to get as far as possible from the sharp point of the hook.

'You wanted that, you desired to be just this' he groaned now close to George's face 'now you will have to take it!'

'I don't know what you are talking about!'

'Of course you do!'

'no! let me be!'

'let me be!' Hook mimicked his pitiful screams and tears with contempt. 'What have I done to deserve such a …such a rat for alter ego?'

'I don't know who you are!'

'Indeed' Hook snarled

'It's the truth!'

'What do you know about truth, boy…I will teach you mine with this' Hook showed the cruel weapon, close to George's eyes. George blinked confused and turned again.There was nothing but he had indeed felt the sharp iron in his face.He looked again at the window…Oh, nice, he was going mad, not only hearing a voice but also feeling weapons on his body.

The front door opened and he could hear the children's excited voices. Something about a funny walk in the park and their new adventures. Hook's eyes became narrower listening for any trace of Pan. None. George relaxed feeling convinced that that prat only could be in dreams and fantasies. But then Hook's eyes turned red when Wendy's voice rang gleefully in the stairs, storming up followed by one and another's feet.

'Come and I will tell you how Peter Pan fights the pirates and gets Hook's ship!'

So…George turned, Hook's eyes on his, red crimson, red revenge and white teeth trying an uneasy smile. Struggling with George's meekly composure until it broke into a fist in the table.

'Damn that boy!' George shrieked, but it was Hook, and his right hand, now in a fist, now in the wood clenched. Had he had the hook he would have run upstairs and catch Pan and slice his throat with the swift motion he so well practised, just for Pan's shake, to thank him for the hook and for the hand taken. But that reaction only got a chain reaction and it was Mary on the door.

'Dear, is everything alright?' she asked in a concerned whisper.

Of course, that prig of Georgie would never have discharged his anger with a table and never ever with his children. Hook gritted his white teeth and muster patience and cynicism for a bitter sweet smile, his best to imitate George.

'Nothing, dear, only' he chuckled humourless 'only got a bit disturbed with the kids' entering and slamming the door…I'm afraid I lost the balance' he winced as if that would be an utter loss for his own life, but according to poor George it was a bit overacted. He would never have pouted and knit his brown like an upset baby. But It had an effect of course and the children got Mary's angry reprimands over having father losing concentration. Hook grinned. Maybe he could not get to kill Pan, but he could just pretty well get the children into problems…Oh, the inconveniences of growing up, he paused, still with his accounts in the desk.

'Ts, Georgie, what a prig you are…what's this fuss over nights in with Mary and nights out?' He mused.

'Oh, shut up' George tried to go and hide the papers but Hook had a strong hold on them.

'ah, that makes four…'Hook smirked 'wonderful, you get much use of that, you know, four times a year…you pathetic codfish. No wonder you have it so small…'

'it's not…not small!'

'oh, yeah…undersized…not much use for it anyway…'

'it is NOT!'

'Who's the captain here, mate?' Hook purred grasping the papers. His eyes darting on George making him feel a wretch once again. George just lowered his head and nodded 'then mine is bigger, much bigger'

'I would say it is the same…size…and you don't seem to get much use for it either…' George muttered.

'What? You…you looking at that? At mine? At ME?' Hook seemed utterly shocked.

'And you looked at mine and at me and Mary'

Hook's eyes rolled and tore the paper into pieces.

'Oh, yes, you mean that…if that is what you count as a night in, really…I should take you to some tavern to know what a night with a woman really means…and about my uses with it, it's none of your business' he paused with realization and his moustache turned 'alright…we are even now…'He groaned his eyes on the ceiling hearing the thumps and bangs the children made with their games. Oh, sure, sure Pan was in one of those games, flying around the room getting foolish ideas about new adventures into the children's feverish minds.

'Tonight I will pay that prat for the little favour he gave us' George muttered, his eyes red with repressed anger staring at his right hand, a fist of flesh and blood,sinews and beating pulse. 'Tonight' Hook repeated while going back into George's mind, allowing George's little self come back into his consciousness. The little voice, trembling against George's ear, murmured incomprehensible words.

'he means it' he cried' he really means it! he's going to kill Wendy and the boys!'

George blinked confused. Could he really…?

'In Neverland one can do anything he wishes' Hook's voice turned in his mind 'And I am you in Neverland'

Great. Now he was with paranoia. George Darling a killer? Of course no! He settled his glasses and sighed. For God's sake, George! It is ONLY a dream!

(TO BE CONTINUED...)


	5. Under the Jolly Roger

Thanks for the reviews.There are more chapters here waiting.Just tell me what you think about this.And of course i own no character.

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Under the Jolly Roger

Hook slowly woke up. His vision still blurred with slumber and…Rum. The shape of the bottle in the desk and the steel hook grasped in his left hand. He groaned while his head bumped with a soar pain as he tried to get it up. It was still night outside, the sea frozen still without Pan.

'Brimstone and gall' he groaned letting go of the hook and closing his blue eyes. Oh, he shouldn't have drunk so much, he shouldn't. But he needed to get rid of George's conscience pinching him over and over again. About the cost of everything. Everything. Even the rum he was gulping. As if Hook cared for that…Of course he did NOT. What was the value of money in a place you could not spend it? When all you had to do if you needed or wanted something was to take it? What does it worth to be luxury clothed if no one really cares as long as you have a hook to gut them out? He sighed and with his only hand he took the bottle. More rum. He definitely had to drown George and get going with his plan to kill Pan and…And…He paused, the hot liquid in his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. But wait a moment! He threw the bottle and it crashed on the wooden wall of his cabin. He got up. He regretted that as soon as he tried to walk over and get his clothes. The floor and the walls seemed to move and he could not get to the door.

'Brilliant you fool…'he grunted He remembered he was without the harness. Half naked, defenceless without the hook. 'Where the hell is the…?' he started a bit confused. He collapsed on the bed, his vision too blurred to allow him to locate the leather harness, the hook and his clothes. Without them he was no Hook.

'Where's Pan?' he murmured uneasy. Every night he woke up in the Jolly Roger it was Smee there with the clock telling him about Pan's arrival. And tonight, today, there was nothing else than the silence of the night over Neverland. Maybe he was early…His hand and where his other hand should be joined in his knees, gazing the wooden floor with a concerned look. Maybe Pan had found out other way of getting to the children…

'Oh, damned be my soul…'he groaned with frustration 'what have I done to deserve this?'

'Capt'n!' Hook turned to the door still closed. Steps in the floor and he knew he had been silly worried about nothing. He was early that was all. He sighed with relief and stood up still dizzy with so much rum. Maybe he should have first thought about the consequences of drinking George out…precisely because the one suffering the effects would be he, Hook.

'Come in' The door opened and a frozen Smee, with ice on his beard and long white moustache came into, holding in his hand a lantern. Hook stopped short of breath. What the hell was going on? Smee didn't have the clock, outside it was still all dark with cold wind. 'Any sign of Pan?' he questioned with a matter-of-fact tone, trying to hide his uneasiness.

'No, capt'n'

So. What do you do when you don't have anyone to dance with? Obviously, you dance along the music. Alone. Hook groaned walking along the Jolly Roger. His eyes, mere blue shades of pure anger. His hook still dripping with the blood of the first pirate who dared stand in his way. He stopped near the mast, gritting his teeth searching for another victim so that slowly his anger could remit and let him be. But his crewmen knew better than face their captain when he was in such a mood. Any chore aboard the Jolly Roger was done promptly and with pure devotion. No one wanted to raise their eyes to meet the hook, Hook's eyes or Hook's voice asking you to say farewell to the world. But still…there is no fun in dancing alone. Alone.

'Where are you rat?' Hook murmured eyeing the skies. Grey, clouded and shrouded in veils of sadness. This was Neverland without its core. So, it seems I'm the one Neverland can go without, he mused to himself bitterly. The cold wind moved his locks while he surveyed the frozen waves. What was the fun of being a pirate in your dreams if even if that pest of boy is not here you are trapped?, George mused a bit sadly. Hook cursed and stamped his feet in the board.

'get me a boat!' he shrieked angry at the boy's cleverness. Where the hell was that pest?

But could he just so easily go away? What about the magic and the laws in that damned island? Obviously Pan was free from those limitations…Now Hook had to discover what was about that island and where were the children. George, still confused by the rum and Hook's ire just got to sit down in some gap of Hook's mind, aware that some plan had to be made to make sure Wendy and the boys were alright.

'but capt'n…'one man started with trembling voice. Hook eyed him calculating the exact point in his ribs where his hook could enter. That gave the man the wrong impression that for once the captain was going to be considerate. 'it's…it's frozen…it's common sense that we cannot…'he could no longer follow his words if he had the mind to. Something got into his skin, penetrating it swiftly with a quick and practised movement that before the man could try again his words the blood and guts got out. All the men went pale, even Smee who inwardly started to pray. Hook turned to the man his hook was stacked in. His eyes red and a cold smile playing in his lips. Humourless he got nearer and whispered, his breath warm in the cold of the neverending dusk and nearby death. 'thanks for your common sense, mate' and then he turned to his crew,rising his crimson red hook, smirking with malice and a thirst for blood. 'Anyone else wanting to impart on me his common sense?'


	6. Frozen Thimbles

First,sorry for my lousy English...Second,thanks for the reviews...Third,I own no character.And Lastly,enjoy! ;)

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Frozen thimbles

Much to Hook's chagrin he had to admit it. Alone. He held the lantern high, shedding light over the dark forest. He knew there must be faeries somewhere, but he refrained from his well-known phrase and bit his lip. Damnation, he cursed turning on his heels back to the forest path. Maybe he should check in the Black Castle, but something kept on telling him there was something bad. He walked through the frozen forest, his hook holding the lantern and his hand ready for his sword, just in case. The virginal white snow told him that there was no one else there walking Neverland's soil.

'Bloody Hell' he muttered glancing around. It was the first night that this ever happened to him, to George and to Hook. But then, as he was despairing thinking himself doomed to inhabit that doomed island till his last breath, he heard the magical sound of voices. Children's voices. He grinned caressing his sword. 'Ah. so, so' he whistled lowering the lantern to the floor and pocking discreetly his head through frozen benches. Maybe he could not get tonight to Peter but someone else was going to feel his hook in his guts.

Two boys.

'Two LOST Boys', pointed Hook, his eyes almost closed calculating the distant, the possible pain and blood that his hook could extract from those repellent little maggots. What were they talking about? What were they planning against him already? Where was Pan and that firefly that was his companion? Where was Wendy and John and Michael? Why was he here when his enemy was not? How could he just have escaped Neverland's magic while he was still trapped? When could he get to sleep without those nightmares? Why was he inside Hook's mind and other times Hook inside his? What was that nonsense about faeries and flying children and Wendy telling tales and pirates and mermaids and Red Indians? Where…?

'Oh, shut up, I cannot listen!' he grunted to the voice that kept screeching in his brain. George just nodded and sat again trying to calm his uneasiness with some mild remembrances that Hook hid in his mind hoard, miles and miles away from his recent memories of murder, blood, pain and revenge. 'Don't you dare open that' he threatened as soon as he sensed that George was moving back to his young years when he was in England. 'I don't need that now' He concentrated on his task now at hand and hook: get the children's plan, get Pan's plan and get them to the plank of the Jolly Roger. 'That's a fair easy game, isn't it?'. He chuckled with anticipation.

'Oh, but that's awful!' George shuddered.

'That's brilliant!' Hook exclaimed in his breath, a wide grin in his face imagining the children's sobs and cries. And then he got closer to the children who without knowing it were to disclose Pan's perdition and Hook's bliss.

'Ts, be a man and learn how to make children fear you' he lent closer, hid behind a big tree.

'Peter's coming!' they yelled happily. An then as said ,a crash was heard and the sea was broken into pieces and pieces of ice melting away abruptly. Hook could only close his eyes when without warning the sun went high in the dark morning and shone mercilessly over its favourite spot in all the universe.

'Blast it' he cursed still closing his eyes in the scorching new light. 'i'll kill that boy for this, who the hell thinks himself to be? The King Sun or what?'

Inadvertly the children continued with their gathering. Now one more boy.

'Three LOST boys' Hook cheered caressing his hook, the lantern had been kicked away now that there was enough sunlight to see around and squash any living creature with the slightest look of a fairy, bug, plant or any living thing Hook just got into the desire to extinguish.

'tink is here!'

'Uh, oh' Hook's eyes rolled with contempt. That pest of big fat fly with a bulb included in the lot…He was going to be discovered if he was not careful enough.

'Tink! do you have news of Peter?'

'How d'you Tink?'

'tell us about Cinderella!' The three boys cheered loud and carelessly. And even another joined.

'Four LOST boys' hook muttered from his refuge.

'She says Peter has got a Jane which will tell us more stories' hook grinned but then paused. A Jane? Hey, wait, wait…Even when another Lost Boy joined the group, Hook's mind was still trying to process that new name. A Jane? What on Hell was that? Why were those stupid kids using names like that so aimlessly and so linguistically improper? He felt a need to go out of his refuge and spank all those boys into correct, proper grown up terms of language. What was A Jane, A Wendy, or A thimble, or A mother if then they were other things? Did they know anything about the world or were they just playing all around make believing and pretending? He got more confused when thinking it all. Then a crowing and he knew Peter had arrived with…with the Jane, whatever, whoever it was.

'Boys, this is your new mother' Hook could not resist it and peeped from the tree's bark to see a small girl of eight, nine, ten…well, he was bad trying to make the age of whoever of those small repellent rats with dirty hands and dishevelled hair. Maybe she was eleven or not, not even eight. But definitely that was no Wendy. She was a red-haired girl of short stature, not even Pan's shoulder and with a white nightgown and bare small pinkish feet. Oh, perfect, the family of Good-for-nothing-but-grateful-Lost middle-people was growing…And he was there to cut their surplus of people off. Of course, cutting limbs was Pan's speciality ,but he was not the only with a proper blade for that. Hook grinned and motioned for his men who were now appearing under the trees long green branches. A sign of 'better alive but kill a few' and his grin got bigger, cold, but bigger with a bit of satisfaction when the first screams filled the void of a perfect day in Neverland. Perfect for Pan's safety was something imperfect and needing an improve for Hook.


End file.
